Shannon. I suppose by this time he is in Heaven. But won’t you dance just to make things go? And then the Commander will lecture on super-maniacs later on!
Salomé. Señor Diavolo, what will you give me if I dance to-night?
The Devil. Anything you like, Salomé. I swear by the dramatic critics.
Hankin (correcting). You mean the Styx.
The Devil. Same thing. Dance without any further nonsense, Salomé. Forget that you are in England. This is an unlicensed house.
[Salomé dances the dance of the Seven Censors.
The Devil (applauding). She is charming. She is quite charming. Salomé, what shall I do for you? You who are like a purple patch in some one else’s prose. You who are like a black patch on some one else’s face. You are like an Imperialist in a Radical Cabinet. You are like a Tariff Reformer in a Liberal-Unionist Administration. You are like the Rokeby Velasquez in St. Paul’s Cathedral. What can I do for you who are fairer than—
Salomé. This sort of thing has been tried on me before. Let us come to business. I want Mr. Redford’s head on a four-wheel cab.
The Devil. No, not that. You must not ask that. I will give you Walkley’s head. He has one of the best heads. He is not ignorant. He really knows what he is talking about.
Salomé. I want Mr. Redford’s head on a four-wheel cab.